


Under the stars

by ArnieAndGilbert



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Language Barrier, M/M, Victor is the Tsar, Yuuri is part of the Japanese Imperial family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 09:17:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11620566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArnieAndGilbert/pseuds/ArnieAndGilbert
Summary: St-Petersburg, Russia, 1866You are invited to join His Imperial Majesty Victor Nikiforov for a two-week festivity at the Winter Palace, which will be filled with dances, vodka, and possibly politics. Moreover, you will join us to celebrate His Imperial Majesty's 27th birthday, as well as for a traditional Russian christmas celebration. Leaders of our world are expected to attend, and it is His Imperial Majesty's desire to make this event the festivities of the century.Please notify us of your coming,Best regards,His Imperial Majesty Victor NikiforovEmperor of All Russia





	Under the stars

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, 
> 
> This is my first fanfiction ever published, and English is not my first language, so I do apologize in advance. I tried to make it more or less historically accurate. 
> 
> Feedback appreciated. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Autumn was starting to fade away, golden leaves falling on the ground, temperatures dropping, streets emptying as the population of St-Petersburg was preparing itself for another winter. While women got their fur coats out again, children were looking with excitement at the Neva River, waiting for it to freeze again so that they could put their skates on. It was a feeling shared with the Russian Emperor, who was scrutinizing the river from his office in the Winter Palace, instead of listening to his counsellors, behind him. It was not until counsellor Feltsman called him out that the Emperor turned around.

White light surrounded him, creating a contrast with his red vest, lightening his gray hair. Victor Nikiforov, Emperor of All Russia, glanced at his counsellors and sighed.

 

“My apologies, counsellor Popovitch. I happen to have not listened, please, start over.”

“I was explaining to his Imperial Majesty that the State of Switzerland has sent concerning signals lately, regarding…”

“Then convoke their ambassador.”

Silence fell before the Emperor dismissed them all. Only Counsellor Feltsman stayed.

“We are all aware of your blindness regarding Switzerland and especially due to the ambassador’s son.” He said, when they were the only two left in the imperial office.

“My friendship with Christophe Giacometti has never had any impact on my directives.” Victor announced while sitting back in his chair near the windows. “Let’s actually throw a dinner so that we all discuss.”

“You only think about organizing dinners lately.”

“What can I do? I am bored.”

He went back at looking outsider, not even hearing his counsellor leaving.

 * 

They were laughing, wandering carelessly in the hallways of the Winter Palace, bumping into each other here and there. Servants and guards watched silently the dance between the two men, who soon locked themselves behind the doors of the Malachite Room. Christophe “Chris” Giacometti went straight to the drinking cabinet, pouring himself another glass of Vodka before proposing some for the Emperor.

“I believe I had enough.” Laughed Victor “And otherwise, Yakov will come and scream at me tomorrow morning.”

“Right. You drank a lot of wine tonight.”

“I am booooored. Look at me. I am standing alone in this huge palace, for only company my counselors. Plus, winter is coming, which means that I will be stuck in here, having to juggle between boring state dinners and meeting with counselors. At least, I will soon be able to skate again.”

“Then find a wife.”

They looked at each other and laughed for a short moment, before Victor’s face dropped.

“I wish I had someone else to share this all with.”

“You rejected them all.”

“They want the money, the recognition. Not me.”

“Then look elsewhere, at the east, at the west. Marry someone from your rank. You will solidify some alliance.”

“I do not have time to travel.”

“Then have them come. Organize a ball.”

 

Victor jerked at the idea.

 

“A ball. YES. The most beautiful ball anyone has ever seen! Oh, Chris, what would I do without you?”

*

However, the idea of a ball grew in the Emperor's mind and soon it turned into a two-weeks celebrations, where the greats of this world would meet. The date for the beginning of the festivities was set to December 25th, the birthday of the Emperor and would last to January 7th, the Russian Christmas Day. Two weeks of festivities that had first made the counsellors reluctant, until they saw the happiness and enthusiasm back of their Emperor’s face. Invitations were sent all over the world, from Morocco to Thailand, from England to Japan, the world was invited at Victor Nikiforov’s ball.

*

 The Russian capital started to welcome royals shortly before the start of the festivities, new Kings and Queens paying their respects to the Russian Emperor everyday, introducing their daughters to Victor. The purpose of the festivities was not to hard to guess and everyone was trying to please the Russian Emperor. Yet, Victor was mostly waiting for the start of the celebrations.

According to Yakov, he had become insufferable, barely paying attention to the politics. Behind closed doors, Victor would dance alone, imagining his beloved in his arms, preparing himself. He liked the energy coming from everyone around him, everything looked shiny and perfect, everything was going alright. His only regret was that he barely had the time to go skate on the Neva, being too occupied.

 

On December 24th, after a long day of meetings in order to make sure was going well before the start of the festivities, Victor finally found a minute for himself. Everyone had retrieved to their quartets, resting before chaos. He quickly changed before slipping out. A guard followed him, assuring his security, and so he went, carrying his skates. He ordered the guard to stay away, wishing some privacy. He started to skate on the frozen river, enjoying this small moment of freedom. He sometimes stopped, glancing up at the starry sky. It took him some time before he noticed the other figure, dancing on the ice, sometimes daring to make a jump. His moves were swift, graceful, and Victor could not take his eyes off the beautiful creature. The Emperor only got out of his trance when the creature stopped skating, looking at him. Victor inhaled before skating towards the other skater.

 

“You skate beautifully.” He complimented.

 

Panic appeared in the brown eyes of his skated. He was slightly smaller and looked younger than him, and his hair were as dark as the night. His traits were Japanese, and Victor recognized him as one of the member of the court of the Japanese Emperor, who had arrived two days before. The man blushed and bowed.

 

“Oh, no need for formalities, we are all equal on ice.” announced Victor.

 

But the other man stayed immobile. Victor reached for his shoulder, surprising the Japanese, who looked at him with big eyes.

 

“Do you mind if I skate with you? It is not everyday that I find an adequate partner, even less someone as graceful as you.” Victor sounded encouraging, wishing to drop the whole protocol for a moment, but the other remained silent. “I recognize you from the Japanese delegation, as a member of one of the cadet branches of the Imperial family but I do not recall being presented. What is your name?”

 

The other man started to respond something but, unfortunately, in Japanese, a language unknown to the Russian Emperor. So Victor reiterated his questions first, in German, and then in English and French, the only other languages he knew. The other skater looked embarrassed, responding again in Japanese, before dropping his eyes to his feet. Victor touched his shoulder again before bringing his hand to his chest.

 

“Victor.” He said while indicating himself.

 

This time, the other understood, and repeated Victor’s gesture.

 

“Yuuri.”

 

Victor smiled at him before indicating the ice and presenting his hand to Yuri. Once again, the black-haired blushed, so Victor insisted. After a moment of hesitation, Yuri raised his hand and accepted Victor’s. And so they went, skating while holding each other for a moment. Victor could see in Yuri’s movements that he was hesitant, so he ended up letting him go, giving him back his freedom. Victor kept his eyes on Yuri, while he skated away, wanting to do some jump himself. It turned into a silent competition between the two. Time passed and the two met again, their eyes expressing their happiness, their cheeks bitten by the cold, their hands intertwined. Victor kept smiling.

 

“I have not felt this alive for a long time.”

 

Yuri bit his lips. On the dock, Victor heard the guard calling for him, and when Victor glanced in this direction, he could make the shape of Yakov next to the guard’s. The Emperor sighed.

 

“Of course, I have to go. My apologies, Yuuri. Thank you for this dear moment. I hope to see you again. Maybe we can share a dance.”

 

Victor brought their hands to his face and kissed Yuuri’s before letting it go.

 

“Good night.”

 

He smiled one last time to Yuuri before skating back to the dock. 

*

 The next day, Victor’s day was filled with meetings before the inauguration dinner. He also celebrated his 27th birthday, and many brought him gifts, in addition to the ones he had already received from the different delegations. He grew tired and soon found the day dreadful. His sole moment of happiness when was he thought having caught of glance of Yuuri while crossing one of the palace’s hallway. Unfortunately, he had not been able to stop so he promised himself to look for the Japanese man tonight at the ball.

Soon after the dinner, where only head of states were invited, Victor found himself in his room, surrounded by servants, bringing to him his costume. It was light but elegant. The fuchsia of the vest contrasted nicely with his dark pants and his grey hair.

Yakov was watching him from a corner of the room. When they were done dressing him, the servants retreated, leaving the two men alone. The old man approached, while Victor adjusted himself one more time.

 

“Be careful, Victor.”

“I know, Yakov.”

“You know, you do not need to marry. The title can be passed to the Plisetsky.”

“I know.”

 

And so they left.

The ball had already started when the Emperor got introduced. Everyone bowed at his approach, while Victor was scanning at the crowd, looking for familiar faces. Chris was near the throne, at the other side of the room. Next to him was Yuri Plisetsky. He was a Russian prince, a distant cousin from his mother side, and was (very) likely to become Emperor, after him, if Victor did not have any descendance. Well, Nikolai Plisetsky was the next in line but the man was old.

After having crossed the room, Victor stood on the platform and faced his audience. All eyes were turned towards him. He thanked everyone for their coming and announced the official start of the festivities. He then sat on the throne while many came to greet him, again. The Russian aristocracy had joined for the evening, and Victor granted his first dance to his friend Mila. Afterward, princesses were pressing to his side, asking for the next dance, and so he danced. He danced with duchesses, with princesses, with queens. They kept talking to him but he soon grew bored and could not remember their faces. He sometimes caught a glance of Chris dancing, but he failed at sending distress messages. However, he got saved by the Spanish King, and he was brought into a conversation between several kings. Yet, he was not deeply interested so he starting to screen out the crowd once again, and he finally found who he was looking for. Yuuri was standing on the side, and was in deep conversation with the Thaï prince.

Victor excused himself and walked towards him, keeping his gaze on the Japanese man. Many people walked in the path of the Emperor and were quickly dismissed. Yuuri only noticed his presence and the Emperor appeared by his side, smiling and his hand inviting. His cheeks blushed and he bowed. The Thai Prince, Phichit -Victor recalled his name-, bowed as well before expressing himself in English.

 

“Your Imperial Majesty.”

“Good evening. I apologize for interrupting but I wish to dance with your friend Yuuri.” announced Victor bluntly.

 

Phichit did not seem surprised at the Emperor’s wish and he turned to Yuuri, translating it in, what seemed to Victor, italian.

Yuuri’s cheeks reddened some more, and he kept glancing behind Victor. The Emperor was aware of the eyes on them, and of people’s whispers, but that was the last of his concern. He extended his hand toward Yuuri and smiled at him. Phichit said again something to Yuuri in italian. Yuuri inhaled and seized Victor’s hand. The Emperor brought them to the center of the room, while the orchestra started to play a new tune, calling for a waltz. Victor placed his right hand on Yuuri’s back, while taking his hand with his left. Yuuri placed his left hand on Victor’s shoulder, but he could not looked at the Emperor in the eyes. They started to dance, moving in rhythm with the other dancers. Victor could feel every eye on them, but he did not care. He kept his body straight and kept dancing with Yuuri. He wanted to reassure the man in his arms but the language barrier was a problem. Maybe he could learn italian or japanese before the other left?

Yet, at the moment, he could only rely on body language. He pressed his thumb into Yuuri’s back, making him jerk forward and finally, their eyes met again. Victor smiled at him again. This time, Yuuri did not drop his gaze and so they danced. After the music stopped for the first time, Victor did not let go, asking for a second dance. Yuuri looked around them, but he was soon led for another dance.

They ended up dancing for two more dances after that, until Victor met Yakov’s angry glare. He finished this dance, trying to translate all of his passion for Yuuri through his movements. Yuuri looked surprised, and maybe a bit relieved, when Victor let him go. He still dropped a kiss to his hand.

 

“I wish to see you again, Yuuri. Do not hesitate to ask for me.” Said Victor in French hoping for Yuuri to understand a little, -after all, wasn’t French and Italian similar?- “I hope you are enjoying yourself. My beautiful.”

 

He turned and was soon met by Princess Sala, from Italy -how ironic-, and he granted a dance. He did not manage to glimpse at Yuuri again that night.

* 

The following morning, Victor was barely out of bed that Yakov started reprimanding him for his behavior. He barely listened, and went to have breakfast. Chris joined him, smirking.

 

“Well, Victor?”

“Yes?”

“Everyone, and I mean it, _everyone_ is talking about him.”

“Mmh.”

“Victor Nikiforov, the Emperor of All Russia, dancing for, not one, but _four_ , dances with a Japanese prince from one of the cadet branches.”

“Chris, teach me italian.”

 

The Swiss, caught off guard, laughed.

 

“Really? You keep surprising me. Why?”

“I wish to converse with him.”

“Victor. You cannot.”

“Please, do not talk about rules and protocols, I already had my share with Yakov earlier.”

“Then you know you cannot.”

“Fine.” Chris relaxed at the word. “Then I will learned italian by myself.”

 

And the Russian Emperor stormed out of the room, leaving his friend speechless.

* 

Unfortunately for Victor, he was given no time to teach himself. He was overwhelmed by meetings, trade negotiations, peace negotiations, or was caught in the middle of marriage arrangements. One evening, in the middle of one of those fancy dinners, he started to hate himself for having this idea of organizing a _two-weeks_ long party. He ended up falling asleep on the loveseat in his office, or fully dressed up on his bed several times. He had not talked again to Chris, and had not seen Yuuri again. Even if he did, he would have not been able to talk to him, Yakov constantly following him around. His only moment of peace occurred five days after the inaugural ball, when the Prince of Moscow Yuri Plisetsky was granted an audience. The teenager stormed into the salon and did not even salute the Emperor.

 

“You are useless.”

“Excuse me?”

“You make us all come so that you entertain yourself, but you do not even pretend that you actually entertain yourself. Plus, you run after some japanese boy. You are growing old and boring.”

“What can I say, Yuratchka?” he sighed. “What about you? Are you entertaining yourself?”

“Of course not. So many girls are running after me. Grandfather has already received ten marriage proposals for me. I consider you responsible for that.” He sat angrily in the seat in front of Victor, dropping any protocol.

“It is only the beginning. Sorry.”

“Tss.”

“Have you met anyone of your interest?”

 

Yuri avoided his gaze for a moment.

 

“He is asking for you, you know.” He said instead.

“Who?”

“Yuuri Katsuki. The japanese prince. Well, he is not exactly a prince, but still. Everyone is watching him, and so he asked why you would even be interested in him, even less dance with him in front of everyone?”

“Does he resent me for that?”

“No. He just said that it was embarrassing.”

“When did you talk to him? I did not know you spoke Japanese or Italian.”

“I do not, but Otabek speaks Italian.”

“Who?”

 

A bit of red appeared on the prince’s cheeks. Once again he did not answer.

 

“Anyway, you should get your things together. He is going to leave soon. At best, do it discreetly, especially as anyone in power is here. At worst, do nothing and you will probably regret it forever.”

“I do not remember you being the counselling time.”

“Shut up. Let’s play chess.” 

*

After his two consecutive victories on Yuri, Victor went back to his normal business. He had dinner with the King of Prussia and then an evening of game was organized in the different salons. At least everyone else seemed to enjoy himself, thought Victor. He stayed for a few hours before announcing his retreat to his quarters.

He was ready to go to bed when he approached the window which was giving him a sight of the frozen Neva River. The street lights were illuminating the ice and Victor could make of the presence of someone dancing on the ice. He did not think twice.

 

He sneaked out, not even having a guard with him. On the dock, he put his skates on and moved towards the other figure. Yuuri Katsuki was dancing alone on the ice, and had not noticed the arrival of the Emperor. Victor was so excited that he almost bumped into Yuuri. Surprise appeared on the black hair man, before he bowed.

 

“Good evening, Yuuri.”

 

He offered his hand, and the other took it. Victor was still slightly frustrated of not being able to communicate properly, but at least he was seeing him again. They skated, they danced, they jumped.

Victor could have stayed there forever, but the cold and the snow caught them up. Victor could see that Yuuri getting cold, as he started to shiver. So he gave him a sign to follow him. Together, they walked back to the palace, and they sneaked in back to the Imperial chambers. Victor had intertwined their hands earlier, to make sure that Yuuri would not freak out and run away, and he led them to the salon. He gave several blankets to Yuuri and called a maid for tea.

They drank in silence, as they warmed up. Victor kept looking at Yuuri, memorizing every detail of his appearance, of his face. He unconsciously brought a hand to his hair, pushing them away from his face.

 

“You are so beautiful.” he whispered.

“Your Imperial majesty,” said Yuuri in Russian with a heavy Japanese accent. “Why….me?”

Victor’s face enlightened.

“Have you been studying Russian? Oh my Yuuri! We can communicate!”

 

The Russian Emperor quickly realized that he had carried himself away when he saw Yuuri’s confused face. When their eyes met, red appeared on the Japanese's face. Victor stood up and pointed out at Yuuri.

 

“You. Skate. Gracefully.” He complimented while mimicking Yuuri skating.

 

Yet, the other man probably got it wrong as he stood up as well and approached Victor. He took his hands and moved to dance. Victor, happy with whatever Yuuri was going to give him, went along. They danced quietly, imagining music in their head. The palace was silent as well, in the dead of the night. However, as time passed, tiredness caught Victor up. During their dance, their bodies had drawn closer, and Victor dropped his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri froze and tried to step back, but Victor embraced him at his waist.

 

“Please, don’t go.”

 

Several minutes passed by before Victor stood straight up again. He intertwined their hands and repeated his pleading. He brought Yuuri’s hands to his lips and kissed each one of his knuckles. Surprisingly, Yuuri returned the gesture, hesitantly. Victor leaned down and brought their foreheads together before nudging their noses.

 

“Stay by me.” He pleaded again.

 

Yuuri answered in Japanese, and stepped back, dropping Victor’s hands. He bowed, and walked towards the door. Victor suddenly felt a tear running on his cheek, out of frustration and sadness, as the door closed silently behind Yuuri. 

 * 

 Victor woke up tired. He had only managed to fall asleep in the early hours of the morning. Yakov was already there in the breakfast room, waiting for him. He eyed the emperor sitting to the table, and not reaching for the cutlery.

 

“The Japanese Boy?” inquired Yakov.

 

The Russian Emperor silently nodded.

The older man sighed and approached his protegee, placing his hand on his shoulder.

 

“I cannot tell you how you should feel, but in your position, this cannot happen. There is too much at stakes.”

“He is just so beautiful, Yakov. You should see him skate. I have not share this passion with someone for so long. He makes me feel so many things… so alive. It is like… as if my mask dropped, and I feel so raw, so naked in front of him.” He stood up and approached the window, allowing him to see the frozen river, full of children playing in this sunny morning. “But he does not understand me. Through words is hopeless. I tried through skating, through dancing. I thought I had succeeded for a moment, but then he left.” He sighed again and turned towards his friend. “I know people disapprove, my friends first. But shouldn’t happiness and love prevail over everything else? Do not you all wish my happiness?”

“We all do, Vitya, we do. Especially after your parents…. After… After it all. However, like I said, there is too much at stake. You are at the moment the most powerful man in the world, hosting the most important powers in your household. You cannot let yourself distracted right now. Maybe after the festivities, but not right now.”

“He will leave with his delegation.”

“Then find a way to make him stay, but do not let this become your priority, please.”

 * 

The day was then slow to pass for Victor. His agenda was not as full as the past days as the whole palace and the city were preparing themselves for the festivities of the evening, as the new year was coming up at midnight. It was to be celebrated before and after by a new magnificent ball organized in the Nicholas Hall, the guests dancing to the music of the best orchestra of the country. The aristocracy of Russia was to attend and mix with the already very prestigious list of guests. Everyone was expecting the Emperor to lead the evening, so Victor prepared himself for the long and stressful evening all day long. He barely ate at lunch, his thoughts still focused on Yuuri. His servants attended him, bathing him, and dressing him. For the evening, he was wearing a white military uniform with golden epaulettes and a golden belt, highlighting his height and his fine body, the whole nicely differentiating him from the rest of the crowd. When the moment came for him to be introduced to the guests, Victor put a smile on his face before coming to the light. He first greeted and thanked everyone through a speech prepared by Yakov, and then greeted each guest that wanted a more personal greeting from the Emperor himself. He stood before his throne while everyone was coming up to him. Several songs had already been played and the evening was already far advanced when Victor was able to start dancing. As always, he did not have the possibility to look for someone or choose before a princess came, praying for his attention. So he danced, partner after partner, without barely remembering their name, their title. For him, they were all a vague memory of a smell of perfume, of powder, of the softness of satin, of velvet, of the sensation of a warm body pressed a bit too much against his and of an empty conversation. At some point, Christopher came to save him, inventing a business emergency. Soon, Victor found himself surrounded by his closest friends. He got introduced to the son of the Governor-General of Turkestan, Otabek Altin, which whom Yura was in deep conversation. Christopher engaged him in a conversation with the princes of Italy and Austria-Hungary.

The clock’s hands were slowly approaching the twelfth hour and Victor was finally starting to enjoying himself, the weight of his mask slowly decreasing and making it more bearable. Victor was now just observing his friends in a deep conversation when he felt his heartbeat increase and his body freeze. The prince of Thailand and Yuuri appeared to his side.

 

“I wish to thank you for organizing all the festivities, your Imperial Majesty. Your parties are grandiose, and it is such a shame that there is no way of capturing these moments to remember it forever.” expressed Phichit.

“It is my duty and my pleasure to entertain you all. The rest is simply thanks to the greatness of the people of this country.”

“We do not celebrate the new year tonight in my country, but it is a delight to have it to celebrate twice.” The Thai prince laughed.

“What an unordinary occurrence, indeed. Make the most of the night, then.”

“I will!”

 

By his side, Yuuri has stayed silent, finding his shoes a lot more interesting. Victor kept his gaze on him, and Phichit turned to talk with the others, all of them suddenly switching to Italian. Yuuri slowly looked up and their eyes met. Suddenly, Victor felt as if the world around him had stopped, as if they were alone in the golden room.

 

“Good evening. Are you enjoying yourself?”

 

Internally, Victor was slapping himself for trying to make conversations. How could his boy understand him?

Meanwhile, Yuuri’s cheeks reddened. So they stood, eyes locked. Yuuri’s mouth quickly opened but no sound came out of it. Victor gathered his courage, ignoring the past comments from his friends, and offered his hand to the Japanese boy and then indicated the dancing crowd. Somehow, Yuuri’s cheeks managed to redden even more, and he bit his lip.

 

“ Please?”

 

The Japanese man looked around them, quickly meeting his friend’s eyes behind Victor, before finally extending his hand to the Russian Emperor. Victor led them to the middle of the room, with the rest of the dancing crowd. Whispers and gazes followed them to the dance floor, but they ignored them all and soon, Victor grabbed Yuuri by the waist, took his hand, and they started to waltz with the other couples. Time stopped as they danced, only focused on each other. Victor was feeling every cell of his body, was aware of all of his movements, and was memorizing Yuuri’s face, detail per detail. Someone would later tell the Russian Emperor like they both looked lost in their own world. It took them quite a while in fact to notice that they were the only one left on the dancefloor, the orchestra still playing, and all eyes on them. Panic appeared in Yuuri’s eyes and Victor smiled, pressing his hand by his partner’s waist, trying to reassure him. He also quickly caught a glance at the clock, seeing that it was almost midnight. They finished their dance and Victor bowed to his partner, while the room applauded. Far in the distance, outside of the palace’s walls, the first stroke of midnight could be heard, announced by the ringing clocks. They all listened, silent, mentally counting. Then, the room burst into joy, everyone reaching for each other to greet them and wish them their best for the new year. Many went directly to the emperor, praising him for the evening and presenting their wishes. Victor put back his mask on and thanked them all individually. Yuuri was still by his side, and everyone was staring at him when they were not paying attention to the emperor. Victor could still feel his presence behind him, and could feel his panic and uneasiness. He did not have the opportunity to reassure him, everyone asking for his attention all around him. After the Russian aristocracy came the royalty from all over the world, with whom Victor was a lot more attentive. When it was time for the Japanese Emperor to approach him, the Russian Emperor suddenly felt worried. They bowed to each other and exchanged in English. Everything seemed well until the Japanese Emperor looked behind Victor, and he sensed Yuuri tense. The Japanese Emperor started speaking to him in Japanese, with an authoritarian tone. This time, it was Victor who started to panic, and he managed to keep his face the most neutral as possible, yet, still smiling. It felt like an eternity before the Japanese Emperor turned towards him.

 

 “My apologies for Katsuki-kun’s behavior, my Imperial Majesty. He has been asked to show more acceptance but has been failing.”

 

Surprised translated on Victor’s face.

 

“ I do not understand.”

“It is an honour for our royal family that you give us such attention, Emperor Nikiforov.”

“Oh.”

“We wish to fully cooperate with yourself. Katsuki-kun is fully at your disposition.”

 

The Japanese Emperor bowed once again before stepping back and letting another royalty talk to Victor. However the latter was standing, partly shocked, partly confused. _At your disposition._ The words resonated in his head, angering him slowly. _No._ He suddenly wanted to scream at the Japanese Emperor, telling that this was not _it_ , it was not like _that_. Yet, he kept his face neutral and moved on to the next person, as he could hear this time Yakov’s voice in his head, telling to do not cause an international incident.

The party went on until the sunrise, even though people had started to leave earlier, as the night had been long. All had drunk, all had danced, and all collapsed in bed in the end. Victor had once again danced with Yuuri, wanting to show the world his adoration for the younger man, yet even him had started to grow tired in the early hours of the morning. However, he had to keep face, and he continued to dance while Yuuri did not show any signs of fatigue. 

So they all slept during the day, recovering from sore feet, sore legs, and headaches. The Winter Palace was quiet, only the tickings of the clocks could be heard, as servants moved silently. The Russian Emperor only woke up in the middle of the afternoon, giving him enough time to prepare for a new meeting with his counsellors and then an intimate dinner with other royalties. He never seemed to be really able to truly rest, and was starting to plan to retreat to the Catherine Palace when the festivities will be over. It would give him at least a change of scenery.         

During the meeting, Victor was quite glad to see that all his counsellors had not recovered from the night before, particularly because they were all older than him, and therefore the meeting ended up being shorter than anticipated. Still, Counsellor Popovich addressed the issue of the Emperor’s relationship with Yuuri. They all wanted him to marry and give an heir to the throne, something that Victor had been trying to postpone as much as possible since he was crowned at 16. However, Yakov stepped up, reassuring them all, and reminding them all that, at _worst_ , the title could be passed to the Plisetsky branch, who was as much entitled to the throne than him. There had never been much rivalry between the two families, and for some reasons, the imperial title went back and forth between the Nikiforov and the Plisetsky.  Additionally, regarding the current options, Victor was sure that Yuri was not very willing to take the Imperial Throne in a near future, so there should not be any assassination attempt coming from him.

           *

On January 2nd, a huge chess game competition was organized in the palace to familiarize and teach to the foreigners. Victor liked to play, and particularly against Yuri. The younger prince had the bad habit of always assume that he would win, yet, his facial expressions were easy to read and Victor could easily see when he was starting to doubt. Additionally, he still had not master the skills needed to _master_ checks, so Victor still usually kept a nice advantage. The aristocracy liked to watch the two play, as they always thought that deep down, this chess game represented a battle for the imperial crown, unaware that when the two played behind shut doors, the prince and the Emperor would accompany the game with gossips. Plus, the two did not care about the crown. Victor was willing to keep it as he thought that Yuri was still young for all of this. He wanted for him the life that he could not himself have. The longer he could bear it, the longer Yuri would be free.

So the two played, silently. Victor was studying Yuri closely, who kept moving on his chair, impatiently. He also kept stealing glances at Otabek Altin quite frequently, which was distracting him quite a lot, and which ended up causing his loss. They shook hands and parted. The prince followed his new friend, while people who had gathered around were almost fighting in order to play against the emperor and therefore be taught by him. One by one, counts and countesses, dukes and duchesses, princes and princesses played against Victor, and they all lost pitifully. He grew quickly bored and after the 5th victory, decided to get up and walk around the room. He politely watched some people play, before his attention was caught by the last table, where his friend Christopher was teaching Yuuri.

 

“Ah, Victor,” exclaimed the son of the Swiss’ ambassador. “Your dear Japanese friend here keeps insulting the great game of chess, and keeps saying that his home game are far more interesting than yours. Do you not think that he should receive a punishment for such remarks?”

 

He winked.

 

“Or maybe, _he_ should teach them to us. What do you think Yuuri?”

 

He looked straight in the eyes of the man, smiling. The cheeks of the other man suddenly turned to red after Christopher told him some words in Italian. Phichit, who has sitting between his friends started to laugh.

 

“Christopher, please, do not use our lack of common language between Yuuri and I to say stupidities.”

“I would never do such things, Victor.” He laughed.

 

He turned to ask to a servant to bring him a chair when one counsellor came to murmur in his ears that _there were more urgent matters_. Victor sighed, apologized to his guests and followed reluctantly.

* 

Later that day, Victor discovered by listening to a conversation between two of his counsellors that nothing was planned for the evening. He seized immediately the opportunity to organize a small and intimate dinner party, for only the people he actually liked to spend time with. He asked for it to take place in one of the small dining rooms of his private apartment and invited his guests for 6pm. He had to rush after an other long and fruitless meeting to not be too late, yet, he still found his friends all waiting for him. Yuri and Otabek were sitting by the fire discussing, while Christopher, Phichit and Yuuri were admiring the view of the frozen river and of the snow-covered city. They all stood up and turned towards him when he entered. They all bowed, except Yuri and Christopher who were already familiar with how to behave with the Russian Emperor behind closed doors.

 

"I apologize for my lateness! Oh no no no, no need to bow! Please, we are friends. Let's have our façades drop.  Let's sit and enjoy the evening, would you?"

 

The table was set with its beautiful silverware, and quickly servants from nowhere and brought the food. Yuri, who was sitting on Victor's right started to enthusiastically talk about the food with his other neighbour Otabek. Christopher was sitting across from Victor, with Phichit on his right. Which left with Yuuri sitting on Victor's own left. He seemed more relaxed than usual, and did not shy away when he noticed Victor staring at him. Shashlik, Borsch and Stroganoff were served, and so they ate, the whole trying to have a discussion even though they could not communicate through one common language. Christopher and Otabek mostly spent their time translating for the Russian royalty. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves and by the time desserts were brought, they were all laughing to a story that had occurred to a Prussian princess and reported by Christopher. The latter and the emperor's gazes met, and the swiss finished his drink before asking to Victor his plan for after the celebrations.

 

"I believe I am going to spend some time at Catherine Palace afterwards."

"Exiling yourself?" Snorted the Russian Prince.

"Mostly wishing for some calm and quiet surroundings. You are welcome to come, of course."

"Thank you not. Otherwise, Nicolai is going to make me follow you around and attend boring meetings."

"Thank you for your support. It is a shame, however, I could have used a chess and ice partner."

 

He smiled at his junior, who started to reconsider the invitation before shrugging.

 

"You better not bore me or I will take the first train to Moscow."

 

Victor laughed before turning to his other guests.

 

"You are all welcome to join us, if you wish. The palace is a true beauty and at a small distance from here. We won't be able to take advantage of the garden but we can practice ice skating."

"Ice skating! Oh my! We should go ice skating tonight! What do you think Victor? After a few glasses of vodka to prepare us for the cold weather!"

"I do not think that my guests will be able to hold their liquor, and especially on ice, Chris. Also, I doubt Yakov would be very pleased." 

"Oh come on! Bring the vodka!"

 

They were all served and toasted. The alcohol barely burned Victor's throat as he was used to it, but his Thai guest coughed so Christopher patted him in the back.

 

"One more, then we can go outside."

* 

 The night was clear but there was a breeze than led to a slight drop in temperature, which were already below zero. Yet, the ice was solid and smooth, allowing for the small group to ice without any danger, apart from falls. The only one unfamiliar with the ice was Phichit, who was held by both Chris and Yuuri. Meanwhile, Victor and Otabek skated lazily, and they all watched Yuri doing figures. He soon came to get his new friend and took him at a safe distance to teach him.

Victor could hear Phichit laughing and exclaiming that it was the best thing he had ever done in his life while he continued to skate. He stole some glances behind him to get the attention of the Japanese man, who was unfortunately more preoccupied in holding his friend, who was himself gesticulating on the ice. Yet, Christopher came to Victor's rescue and shooed Yuuri away, while he was taking care of Phichit. Even under the dim lights of the city, Victor could see his cheeks slightly turning to red. He still extended his hand for Yuuri to grab and to invite him for another dance. Waltzing on the ice was quite difficult for beginners but Victor and Yuuri's skills allowed them to manage to not slip nor to lose their equilibrium. They strolled, and Victor was forgetting about the world surrounding him. Like every time he had danced with his partner, time seemed to freeze around them. Victor could only hear his beating heart, could only see Yuuri's beautiful face, could only get himself lost in his eyes, could only feel Yuuri's hands on his body. He felt alive and Yuuri brought in him a sentiment of peace and happiness that he had not felt in a long time. He also felt stronger, as if everything was possible.

Yuuri looked at him curiously. They were still moving on the ice, but Victor's mind had got lost. Yuuri bit his lips and Victor grew frustrated again of their inability to communicate. Engaging their friends in the conversation so that they could translate would take out any kind of intimacy. Victor brought them to an halt and wrapped Yuuri into a hug. It broke any kind of protocol, and was even considered disrespectful, but Victor was starting to feeling desperate to make Yuuri understand how he felt. It took a moment for Yuuri to relax in his arms but he also wrapped his arms around the Emperor, while he tucked his face in Victor's neck.

Their embrace lasted a while, until Yakov appeared on the dock and called for them. Victor sighed and whispered one last thing before letting go of Yuuri.

 

"I wish we could stay here forever."

*

The next two days were actual tortures for Victor. Meetings were only followed by other meetings, or state dinners. As the end of the celebrations grew closer, head of states were more in a hurry to sign treaties and alliances with other countries, and Russia, as the organizer, was playing a key role, which explained Victor's presence at every meeting and conference.

In comparison to his intimate dinner with his friends were he had felt comfortable and surrounded, he was now feeling dreaded and alone. Even Yakov's presence did not help, and so Victor kept falsely smiling, but now with more difficulty than before.

It was only on the third's day evening that Victor was able to find some peace and relax. He had a one-on-one dinner with another head of state, but it had been short and pleasant. Finally alone, Victor collapsed on the love seat and stared at the ceiling, appreciating the loneliness and the silence. He knew that in the ballroom was organized another party, where young people danced happily, while parents were setting them up for a marriage. In another room, businessmen were talking about trade and women while drinking vodka and smoking. Children were playing in another, while being watched by their childminder. New found lovers were exploring the palace, in search of a quiet and intimate room. The palace was buzzing. Victor started to wonder about Yuuri's whereabouts. Maybe he was playing a game of chess against Phichit, or he might be dancing with someone. That thought brought sudden anger in Victor but it disappeared as fast as it had come when Victor remembered that he had never seen the man dance with anyone else than himself. Flashes from their past encounters resurfaced and Victor could not feel more appeased.

Yet, worry about the close-coming departure of the Japanese man came into his mind. He had only two days to convince him to stay, or at least to spend as much time possible with him before he was gone forever. Victor got up, with a mission in mind. He looked up quickly at the sky and saw that it was clear. He then called two servants. He ordered one to go get him his coat and his skates, and the other to go fetch Yuuri. In the mean time, he changed to warmer clothes. The first servant came back and departed quickly. Now Victor had to wait for Yuuri. He started to pace up and down in his room, until a shy knock on the door interrupted him. The servant entered, looking down the floor.

 

"I am sorry, your imperial majesty. I could not find him. One of the servants in the Japanese quartet said, however, than he had left earlier tonight."

"Left? Left where?"

"I do not know, majesty."

 

Disappointed, Victor sat down on the love seat. It would take time and people to look for Yuuri, but he did not want to raise attention to them. He suddenly felt very hot, wrapped up in his coat.

"Open the window, please."

 

The servant silently passed by him and executed herself. The cold air invaded room. He heard blurting a sign of surprise.

 

"What is it?"

"There is someone on the ice."

 *

 Victor kept cursing himself for his stupidity on the way down. Of course Yuuri would be skating! Why had he not thought about that first!

 Yuuri was lazily sliding on the ice. When he saw Victor putting his skates on on the bank, he came to greet him, a shy smile on his face.

 

"Good evening, Yuuri."

 

Victor extended his hand to the other man after getting up. Yuuri grabbed it and they slid on the ice, which was slightly covered in snow. They moved slowly, appreciating each other's presence, as they both knew that their time together was limited. They rotated around each other and started to dance to an inexistent music. Victor felt warm and at ease. The ice has always been something comforting, it was a place where he never had to act and his worries vanished for a moment. Now, with Yuuri on his side, everything seemed amplified. He suddenly wished that he could spend his life on the ice. 

 

However, the cold caught them, the wind making the temperature drop, and so they soon found their way back to the palace. Victor brought Yuuri to his apartment and ordered tea to his servant. They sat by the fire, and soon warmth enveloped them again and they could feel their limbs once more. They drank slowly and in silence, the language barrier still being a problem for the two of them. Well, there were some attempts to discuss, the two of them talking and trying to translate their words through the movements of their hands. When Victor tried to mime Yuuri's skating while complementing him, he was only met by a confused Yuuri. Meanwhile, when Yuuri tried to express himself, he repeated himself several times before giving up. So they found themselves staring at the fire, in silence.

Victor started to be bored at the view and therefore to turn his head to his left, towards Yuuri was seating. The latter was already watching him and smiled. Victor extended his hand to Yuuri, who took it and they intertwined their fingers. Yuuri squeezed his fingers while speaking.

 

"I wish you could stay," said Victor while returning the gesture, "I wish you did not have to leave and go back to Japan. I think we could do great together, that we could become great _partners,_ great _rulers._ I know that even if I barely know you. I feel it. So deeply in my heart." He continued while bringing their hands to his heart. "We would be strong, and happy. And I would cherish you with all my heart, so that people see how deep I love you. I would give you everything. The whole world. My body. My heart. My soul. Oh Yuuri,…." He kissed his knuckles. "I would do everything to make you stay by my side."

 Yuuri responded something in Japanese. Or was it Italian? Victor started to kiss his knuckles again and then pressed his hand to his chest again, trying to make pass the message. They stayed like that a long moment, but tiredness started to catch them, yet Victor did not want to let go. He kept caressing Yuuri's hand with his thumb, while keeping constant eye contact with the other. He wished that it would help him fight against sleep, however the comfort he found himself in won over and the Emperor of Russia fell asleep, on his chair by the fireplace, his hand intertwined with the one of the man he loved. 

*

 He woke up to the voice of Yakov, scolding him for falling him on the chair, and not in a proper bed. Victor immediately looked at the seat next to him and found it empty. He then turned to his counsellor. The room was bright, even thought it was snowing outside. For a moment, he wondered if what had happened the night before had been a dream, but the cup seating next to his proved him it was not. 

*

 January 7th marked the Russian Christmas. A long dinner was planned, in order to serve the 12 traditional meals that were to be served. Then, in order to entertain his guests for one last evening, a ball was again organized. The festivities were finally coming to an end, making Victor happy, as he was looking forward to the coming back of quietness in his palace, but he also dreaded it. The Japanese delegation was expected to leave on the morning of the 8th. Desperation had started to gain Victor, leading him to barely sleep the night before. He had kept turning around in his bed, before he got up and sat at his desk. He poured his heart in a letter, that ended up being several pages long, hoping that one day, Yuuri will be able to read it and come back to him. After being dressed up for the evening celebration, Victor slipped the letter in his vest, by his heart. He will give it to Yuuri after their last dance.

He followed Yakov to the ballroom, which had been turned into a huge dinning room in order to accommodate everyone, stopped in front of the door that would reveal him. He straightened up his vest one last time, took a deep breathe and put a smile on his face. Then Yakov ordered for the doors to be opened. Everyone turned towards him and bowed at his appearance. He then felt hundreds of eyes scanning him, studying his red military vest, his black pants, his (fake) smile. He was handed a glass of champagne as he faced the crowd.

 

"Thank you my friends, for joining me one last time, for this great night, to celebrate with us Christmas. This day is dear to us, Russians, and I am looking forward to share it with you. Your company has been great and this palace will feel empty and cold once you are all gone. I know many of you are leaving early in the morning to go back to, I wish for you all, your warmer home," the audience laughed," but please know that you will always be welcome here, in this palace, in this city, and in this country. Our time together has allowed us to create relationships, strengthen friendships and resolve some conflicts, and I hope that it will be remembered." He paused. "Truthfully, these two weeks of celebrations were at first to kill my boredom, but together, we turned it into something great. I am sure that during my lonely night, I will remember sharing a joke with some of you, sharing a dance with others, or sharing a meal and drinking glasses of vodka together. I hope that tonight, we will be able to make again new pleasant memories. It has been my great pleasure to host you all, and I wish you the best, for tonight, and for ever. Merry Christmas."

 

Everyone repeated his last words while raising their glass, and they all drank. The Emperor was led to sit at his table, shared with other kings and emperors, and among them, the Japanese Emperor. Victor did his best to ignore him, the emperor's words at the back of his head. He had put Yuurii at his disposition, meaning that, at the moment, he had all the power over the right of Yuuri's leaving Russia with his delegation. Victor could ask the other emperor to make Yuuri stay. He could have Yuuri with him just by a request. However, Yuuri's opinion would not be taken into account. He had been kind and gentle with Victor, and Victor respected him too much to do not let him take a decision. After all, the letter he was currently carrying was a proposition, the last words would be from Yuuri, and no one else.

*

 It took time for Victor to finally dance with his loved one. Everyone wished to danced one last time with the Emperor and to gain his favors. He had been dancing with a princess when he met Yuuri's gaze, and it was not before two other dances with other women that he found himself in his Yuuri's arms. The other man was dressed in blue and silver, which contrasted well with Victor, in red and gold. They found themselves alone in the middle of the dance floor. The violins started to play and Victor seized Yuuri by the waist with one hand, and intertwined their fingers with the other. Dancing on a wood floor, surrounded by the world was very much different from dancing all alone on the ice. Victor always felt more at ease on the ice, even though an accident was more likely to occur there rather than in a ballroom. Yet, here he was under the spotlight, all eyes on them, and the room suddenly felt a lot warmer. The music was a point of reference in all this mess, but it was also to be respected, making it impossible for them to slow down or fasten their movements.  There were rules, and Victor was already breaking one. Men did not dance together. They swirled around the floor, dancing the waltz, until the song ended. Victor did not even have time to exchange a few words, or even give the letter to Yuuri before some duchess seized him to dance with him. They once again got separated in the middle of the crowd. While the duchess tried to attract his attention though meaningless conversations, Victor kept scanning the crowd in order to find a mop of black hair, without success. He could not even find familiar faces, not even Yakov. He was alone, swirling in the busy room, with foreign hands on his body. His partner's face seemed blurry. Was he still dancing with the duchess? Suddenly everything seemed to go faster: the music, the dance, the change of partners, his heartbeat. He felt crowded. Hands were everywhere on his body: his shoulders, his waist, his back. Yet, he continued to smile, to stay straight, to dance. With young women, and older women. With maiden, and married women. With countesses, and marchionesses, and duchesses, and princesses, and queens. He danced until his whole body started to hurt, until his head started to spin. Until a hand pulled him out. He recognized the touch, but it was not until he drank a glass of wine that he lifted his head. Christopher Giacometti was watching him with worried eyes, his hand still on his shoulders.

 

"Thank you."

"You looked like a lamb dancing with wolves. Or a gazelle with lion. Or.."

"I get it." Sighed Victor.

"Come with me."

 

Victor silently followed, sending an apologizing smile at the women who were still waiting to dance with him. Christopher brought him to a quieter side of the room and the Russian emperor collapsed on a chair. More wine were brought to him but he barely drank it, wanting to keep his head clear. He glanced at a clock, it was already past midnight. It was already January 8th and Yuuri was due to leave in a few hours.

 

"Where are the others?"

"They are seating somewhere, Yuri enjoying his last night of opportunity to criticize everyone. Your... man is with them. Do you want to join them?"

"Give me a minute."

"No problem. Oh, and Yakov should not bother you much tonight. He fought with his wife and they already both left."

"Hmm."

 

All his muscles ached, and a headache was started to form. And the chair he was on was very comfortable. Yet, Victor soon rose and followed again Christopher. It felt a bit easier to breathe in the room, who had slowly started to empty itself. People were still dancing but some had already left for a last cigar, and a last drink in one of the salons. His group of friends were sitting in another corner of the room, drinking champagne. Yuri and Otabek were pressed to each other, sharing a large chair, while Phichit and Yuuri were sharing another, yet they kept a distance between each other. They had to pull up chairs to sit with their friends, and after sitting down, Victor felt a bit better.

 

"You are blocking the view, idiot." Complained Yuri.

"Do you not want to look at your Emperor, Yuratchka?"

"No. You are boring. And I am still seeing you for a long period of time. However, I will no longer be able to criticize the son of this Canadian governor. Look at him! He thinks he can dance, but he already stepped on the duchess' feet twice."

"Will you come with me to Catherine Palace?"

"Yes. Now, move. A bit to your right."

 

Victor rolled his eyes but complied. He brought his chair closer to Yuuri's, who smiled at him.

 

"When are you leaving?" He asked Phichit.

"Tomorrow morning. The journey home is going to be quite long. The train ride to Moscow is already long."

"Yes, 22 hours. Plus, you might be slowed down by the snow."

"That will be fun." Laughed the Thai prince.

"I hope that you will have had a pleasant stay."

"Oh yes! Saint Petersburg is really nice, and the cold did not bother us. I had never seen so much snow before, and discovering ice skating was something. I wish we could do the same in my country. Yuuri has always talked about the ice in the North of Japan, but I had never realized it was possible to enjoy it that much. I will miss it. We will miss it."

"I am delighted to hear this."

"You should visit. If you ever want to, or ever need to. Bangkok is a very beautiful. Now of course, it is not as interesting as Japan, but.... you should come."

"I will, if I ever get the opportunity."

 

Afterwards, Victor got distracted by Yuri, who was started to ask him about his _honest_ opinion of certain sovereigns, but "Yuri, I cannot say such things here, I am the Emperor of Russia, not a vulgar gossiper," was unheard by the Russian prince. The conversation continued for a moment, and Victor discovered that Otabek was also due to leave tomorrow, which explained why Yuri was more open. However fatigue was starting to seize them all, and the room was almost empty, as the bells indicated two in the morning. They were all reluctant to get separated, as it was mostly certain that they would not be awake when the others will leave. Yet, instead of going directly to his apartments, Victor followed his friends to theirs. They first said goodbye to Chris, who was going back to the Swiss embassy, then to Otabek. Victor invited him to Saint-Petersburg from whenever he pleased, which delighted Yuri. The latter stayed behind to say goodbye to his friend, so Victor followed Phichit and Yuuri.

 

"I can translate whatever you please, your Imperial Highness." Said Phichit when they were alone.

"Just tell him that... I am glad I have met him."

 

Phichit repeated it and Yuuri answered.

 

"He said that the pleasure was mutual."

 

Victor and Yuuri smiled to each other.

 

"I will... leave you alone. Thank you again for inviting us, and in the name of my father and my kingdom, I hope that our two countries will keep building a great relationship."

"I wish so too. Thank you, Phichit."

 

They both bowed, and soon, Victor and Yuuri found themselves alone in the hallway. Yuuri then opened a door to a small boudoir, where they could be alone. They both went to the window, which, at the displeasure of Victor, gave a view on the gardens and not the ice. They stayed in silent but their hands found one another. Victor kept caressing Yuuri's hand with his thumbs, more to reassure himself, rather than Yuuri. He found the other man watching him, and smiling sadly. Victor returned the smile, but his heart was heavy. Then, Yuuri brought their intertwined hands to his face and kissed Victor's knuckles.

 

"I wish that you did not have to leave."

 

Yuuri answered something and looked down. With his other hand, Victor brought his chin up.

 

"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life and I wish you could stay by my side. We would make it work."

 

Victor started to caress his face slowly. Appreciating every moment, memorizing every aspect of Yuuri's face.

 

"I think I love you."

 

Yuuri said something again. Frustration and tiredness bought tears to Victor's eyes, but before they start to roll down on his cheeks, he took Yuuri in his arms, one last time. He embraced him with all his body, try to forge into his memory his warmth, his smell, the feeling of having him in his arms. Victor was taller than him, and so Yuuri placed his head on his shoulder. Victor could hear him murmur, and so he murmured back. _I love you, I love you, I love you_.

 

They only separated from each other when they heard drunken laugh in the corridor. They parted reluctantly but they kept their hands intertwined. Victor could see that Yuuri was sad and tired, and so he took the difficult decision of leaving him. He kissed his hands one last time, and then handed him the letter.

 

"Read it whenever you can. The decision is yours. You can come back whenever you want. You will always be welcome here, as you have gained a special place in my heart."

 

Yuuri took it slowly, making their final physical contact last. Afterwards, Victor let go and walk towards the door. He could still feel Yuuri's touch when he grabbed the door knob. He turned back one last time.

 

"I love you. May we meet again."

 

Yuuri answered one last time. Then, Victor exited the room.

*

 The palace went back to its original state: calm, empty, almost cold. Certain rooms would not be occupied for months. Furniture was covered with sheets. The cupboards and the pantries were filled up with less food, the silverware was stored, and the additional help hired for the festivities was laid off. After all the life that had been concentrated in one place, it was as it had slipped away. Even the emperor and his counsellors were leaving for a few weeks, going to Catherine's Palace, at the South of Saint-Petersburg. Yet, a small snow storm was delaying their departure as it blocked the roads. So they remained inside, the servants preparing the luggage, and the counsellors trying to keep the Emperor occupied. Victor could barely concentrate, which affected his whole behavior. He ate and slept less, more interested in sitting by the fire, watching the flames dance while replaying his last moment with Yuuri in his head.  At night, Victor would stare at the ice. It was too cold to go outside, and he knew that he would be scolded if he even put one foot in the snow, so he stayed in.  Christopher swung by one afternoon, in an attempt to distract him, but he was only met with silence. Meanwhile, Yuri had come to sit with him and together, they sulked in silence. Even Yakov was more amiable than usual, and only stayed long to make sure that Victor ate a minimum. He also acted as a barrier with the other counsellors, who wanted him to attend meetings to discuss the next harvest, the next law, the next reform. But what could Victor do when his mind was occupied by a Japanese man?

When the snow stopped falling and the temperature slightly increased, preparation for the departure accelerated. A first convoy was sent with the luggage, another with food. Everything was to be ready before the Emperor and his counsellors arrived.

Finally, five days after the end of the festivities, everything was ready and the Emperor was expected to leave the next morning. He had been a bit more active that day, attending a meeting and a dinner. However, when he closed the door of his bedroom and was alone, he went back to sulking on his love seat. He laid there, staring at the ceiling this time. He heard the servants coming in to prepare his bed and putting his evening tea on the table, but he did not move a muscle. He did not want to go to Catherine Palace anymore. In truth, he did not want much anymore.

His back hurting, he turned on his side and faced the wall. Maybe he could fall asleep right there. The bed seemed far away. His evening tea seemed far away. His clothes were not comfortable to wear to sleep, but he did no longer care. Maybe he could stay there forever. Yes, he should stay there. He would have to say it tomorrow morning to Yakov that he was not going. He would scold at him for sure, scolding him like a child, reproaching him to have wasted everyone's energy for nothing, for getting attached to something he could not have. Yuuri. He closed his eyes and tried to remember his touch. His smile.

A tear fell on his cheek. He curled up.

 

The door to his room opened and a servant walked in. He heard her going for the tray with his cup of tea but he heard her stop when she must have seen that it was still full.

 

"Your Highness."

"Leave me alone."

"Maybe I could bring something to his Imperial Highness to diminish his sorrow?"

"Leave me alone, I said."

"Maybe another cup of tea? A glass of vodka? Your pair of skates?"

 

Skates. Yes, maybe he could. Maybe he could go skating. Yet, the ice would be empty. He did not want to skate alone. He sighed. He shrugged.

 

"How is the ice?"

"Solid, sir. Children were playing on it all day."

 

He thought for a moment.

 

"Fine. Bring me my skates and my coat."

*

 He danced with an invisible partner. He slid in hope to revive his memories. The ice did not felt as recomforting than before. It had always been his safe place, as a child, after the death of his parents, after his coronation. The silence would surround him, sometimes snow would come to dance with him. He would usually feel at peace there. Yet, tonight, his worries did not seem to want to leave him. He wanted to remember Yuuri, but he was immediately reminded that Yuuri was not with him. Still, he skated. He stopped dancing with his invisible partner and started to dance for himself. He did jumps. He did rotations. The cold air against his face became more bearable, the more he skated. He tried to replicate a dance he had once created, when he was bored. He skated, as if there was no limit. As if he was not on the ice before his palace, but on a lake, far away. As if he was completely alone, and not being carefully watched by his guards. As if.

 He heard the sound of skates sliding towards him. Maybe it was Yakov, coming to get him back to his bed because _we are leaving early in the morning._ Maybe it was Yuri, coming to sulk with him on the ice. He sighed. The skates were coming nearer. He turned around to greet them.

For a moment, he wondered if he had not fallen and hit his head. Or maybe he had fallen asleep on the loveseat and he was dreaming. Because before him was standing Yuuri. His face was flushed and seemed out of breath.

 

"Yuuri."

 

The other nodded. Victor could not believe it. It was not possible. Yuuri was to be in a train, leaving Russia. Not here, not on the ice of the Neva. He brought his hand to Yuuri's cheek. He was cold but he was there.

 

"How?"

 

Yuuri opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out of it. Then, he started to search something in his coat, which he offered to Victor. A letter. The Emperor immediately grabbed it and tore off the seal. The writing was delicate, yet seemed rushed. Still, it was in English.

 

_Your Imperial Highness,_

_Due to Yuuri's and your incapacity to find a common language, please allow me to interfere and present you Yuuri's words which were dictated to me on our ride back to Saint-Petersburg._

_Yuuri opened your highness' letter while being on the train to Moscow, which I had to, of course, translate. It was very beautiful, I would like to add. We were both touched by your writing and your words. Yuuri was quite glad to discover the depth of your sentiments to his regard, and their reciprocity. In truth, I am sure that you will be delighted to know that Yuuri's has been talking a lot about your Imperial majesty during our stay there. Even if at first confusion and uncertainty clouded his opinion, Yuuri has grown very fond of you. He would like you to know that he particularly appreciated sharing the ice with you, and that he admires your talent on the ice._

_Regarding your proposition of expanding our stay, I suppose the fact that we are currently on a train to go back to you speak for itself. Personally, I presented it to my father as an opportunity to learn from the great Victor of Russia. So please, teach me all you know, your Imperial Highness._

_For Yuuri, the Emperor gave his permission even though we both think that someday Yuuri will have to go back to Japan. His fate belongs to the Emperor, and for the moment, he placed it into your care. Yuuri is quite anxious about your difference in status, but I am sure you will make it possible._

_Please, do not hurt him._

_All my best,_

_Phichit Chulanont,_

_Prince of Thailand._

Victor raised his head and met Yuuri's anxious gaze.

 

"Oh Yuuri."

 

He put the letter in his pocket and grabbed Yuuri's face.

 

"We will make it work."

 

He approaches his face, silently asking for permission. As Yuuri was not pulling back, he first kissed his forehead. Then his cheeks. Then their lips met for the first time.

 

The end.


End file.
